Chapter 3
Marc feared that he would be sent away or viewed as just another person to look after when Fiona found out about his alters but far from it had happened.
There was now a mutual trust between them. She had even offered to help explain it to the other siblings if he wanted( it had went pretty well with a lot less confusion than he was expecting.)
Marc found himself being much less reserved. He was even ok letting someone else take the front for a while and knew that he wouldn’t be coming back to looks of disgust or hatred.
Monica had made a habit of only coming by around the time the caseworker would visit. When the caseworker left, Monica would take her leave not too long after. He was surprisingly okay with that as he hadn’t really formed a relationship with her and had heard plenty of terrible things about her from the others.
Eventually, the only adult that would be around when his caseworker was there would be Frank. That had luckily seemed to be enough to placate her.
Steven was still oblivious to the whole “foster kid” thing and had assumed that he was just having a long sleepover. But he was increasingly becoming more aware the more he fronted.
It all blew up when he decided he was ready to go home.
—————————————————————————————————————————
“I just don’t understand why I can’t call my mum. I know she doesn’t work today. It should be no trouble picking me up.”
“Steven…” Fiona was exasperated. This wasn’t the first time she had to convince him but she couldn’t any longer. She knew he deserved to know the truth and he would find out sooner or later.
“You can’t go home because…” She exhales. “You live here. You have for months now.”
At first, he just stands there. She had to be joking, right? Her serious expression doesn’t change. He backs away. “No no no no. That’s not true. I’ve been here for a week. Tops. You’re lying!”
‘She’s telling the truth.’ a voice says.
He looks around, confused. No one else was in the room with them. Fiona was looking at him like she knew something he didn’t.
“What is going on here?! Who said that?”
’Steven calm down. Just take some deep breaths and we’ll explain everything.’
He hadn’t realized it but he was hyperventilating. Fiona had moved closer to comfort him but he flinched away from her. He ran to the nearest room and locked himself in.
Fiona hadn’t followed, knowing that this was a conversation that they needed to have by themselves.
—————————————————————————————————————————
Everything he knew was a lie.
His mother was just some fantasy he created in his head and the bruises he had thought were from normal roughhousing were from something entirely different. There were even other people living in his head. Marc and Jake.
The worst part was that while they were taking the worst moments of their life, he was living in blissful ignorance. They tried to assure him that was what they needed but he still felt like he had robbed them of something better.
A quiet knock came from the door he had been sitting against. He didn’t want to be rude so he wiped his eyes and sniffled before reaching for the handle.
And there was Debbie. She was holding a holding a piece of paper in her hands and Steven couldn’t quite make out what was on it. (Maybe he needed some reading glasses)
She had hugged him before he knew it. He didn’t know what to say.
“I made you something.” She pulled back and handed him the paper while she sucked her thumb with her free hand. From what he could tell it was a drawing of the family. The whole family.
Even though they had shared a body, she had managed to capture their individual likenesses. Marc looked grumpy and Jake had a flat cap which tracked with the small amount of information he had already gleaned from just meeting them. And then there was him. He was wearing a patterned shirt and a cape.
“A cape?” He gave her a questioning look.
“Marc and Jakey said that you were their superhero. Since you saved them. I asked if you could fly and they said they didn’t know yet and to ask you. Can you fly?”
He can’t keep the smile from his face. He sniffled and wiped his face again but not from sadness this time.
“I can’t fly. Sorry.”
“Is your power that you’re British?”
He chuckles much to her own confusion. “Yea. I think that might be it.”